To An Artist

Art is the RNA of the divine.
Recalcitrant and no apologizer.
Tis born of human perseverance,
Impacted by human suffering,
Sought by Temple moneymakers,
The great grandchild of life and death.

Without art we never glance into the face
From where we have come
Or venture to imagine a future.
Upon it rests our fragile possibilities
With whom Art duets with breaths,
And bears the artist, a particular patina.

Artist!...sensuous, sexy, silly, sublimed,
Clearly penniless without a dime.
Yours is the sun and moon to take
From which the greatest art you make.
Others are sure you have not a thing
While into the world new thought you bring.

Symmetry shepherds us to the sky,
In our DNA we have forgotten why.
Deficit of knowledge has been the cost.
Artists offer what has been lost or tossed.
If not for God, it would not be.
The creation of art shall always be free.